


Complicated At Best

by TheFireInHerEyes



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Affairs, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Alternate Universe - Student/Teacher, Alternate Universe - Teachers, Angst and Feels, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Ben Solo Needs A Hug, Breaking Up & Making Up, Cheating, Divorce, Drama & Romance, Eventual Smut, Extramarital Affairs, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Gen, Love, Romantic Soulmates, Shameless Smut, Smut, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Soulmates, Teacher-Student Relationship, True Love
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-21
Updated: 2019-07-26
Packaged: 2020-07-10 03:04:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,830
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19898818
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheFireInHerEyes/pseuds/TheFireInHerEyes
Summary: Ben Solo has just turned 30 years old, and is enjoying his life as a highly paid professor, and husband to a beautiful woman of 3 years.He pays no mind to the fact that his wife of 3 years isn't his soulmate, the name inked on his wrist does not belong to his wife.In Ben's mind, he hasn't met his soulmate yet, and perhaps he never will.Of course the moment the thought crosses his kind, his soulmate waltzes into his life in the form of a 20 year old student, his 20 year old student.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Just had to get the concept of this out of my head

They say everyone has a soulmate, they say everyone has that one special someone who makes your life feel complete.

  
That may be true, and that may be what you had been waiting for, for your entire life up until your 20th year of living on earth, but if it was true, then why was your soulmate situation so screwed up?

  
Why did your soulmate have to be 11 years older than you? Why did your soulmate have to be one of the most beautiful and intimidating men you’ve ever met?

  
Beautiful, tall and broad. He was a living Adonis.  
He also happened to be your professor. And he also happened to be married. For 3 years.

  
If everyone had a soulmate, and there was that one perfect someone for everyone, then why was your soulmate your Professor? And why did he have to be married?

  
How did fate expect you to handle this? Were you supposed to ignore his name inked on your skin?

Were you supposed to ignore the burning in your wrist anytime he was near?

  
What did he expect of you? What did you expect of him?

  
You were meant for him, he was meant for you. And he was married.

  
Your soulmate was not only your Professor but he had been married for the past 3 years.

  
For the first time in a long time, you loathed the thought of having a soulmate.

  
You wished you could burn his name right off your wrist, and you were sure he felt the same way.


	2. Chapter 2

Ben Solo's mornings usually started out the same way, everyday. He would wake up at 6, go for a jog on the trails behind his house, come back to the house at quarter to seven, hop in the shower and get our quickly.

  
By the time he was done his shower, his wife of 3 years would be up. He would greet her with a gentle kiss, sketching lingering and sweet. She would move to the shower and while she was getting ready for the day, he would get dressed and wander down to the kitchen to make them both coffees.

  
At 30 years old, just turned 30, Ben Solo had a high paying job and a marriage to a gorgeous woman. He was happy with his life, he was happy with what he had.

  
But, there was something weighing on the back of his mind, that had always weighed on the back of his mind. It was always there, it always would be there.

  
His gorgeous wife of 3 years, the woman he loved, was not the woman meant for him. His wife was not his soulmate, her name was not inked on his skin.

  
He had waited his whole life to find his soulmate, to find the perfect person for him, the person who had his name inked on their skin.

  
But after he turned 23, every year became harder as he had yet to find his soulmate. He looked for them in everything he did, wondered if and when he was going to meet them, if ever.

  
He wasn't always known for his patience, but even less so when it came to his soulmate. Everyone else around him had already met their soulmates, they had been in relationships for years.

  
He had met his future wife when he was 25, and though she wasn’t his soulmate, he had fallen. Hard.

  
She was fun, she was boisterous, she made him forget all that soulmate shit. She made him forget that he wasn’t with the ‘one person’ that was made for him.

  
But there was always that lingering thought in. the back of his mind that somewhere, some day he could find his soulmate. He may run across his soulmate anywhere and then what would he do?

  
Ben loved his wife, he did. He loved her smile, he lived her laugh, he loved her passion for her work as a freelance photographer. He loved her tenacity even though it drove him fucking mad some days.

  
“Babe,” Ben looked over his shoulder, his wife coming down the stairs in a pair of tight dark jeans and a white tshirt on. “thanks for making the coffee.”

  
When she wrapped his arms round his waist, he leaned into her touch. He smiled small when she kissed his back, her fingers digging into his dark blue dress shirt.

  
“You look good today.” He turned and rest against the counter, handing her a cup of steaming black coffee.

  
“You always look good.” He bent down and gave her a chaste kiss. When he pulled back he reached for his own cup of black coffee and raised it to his lips.

  
“So I have to drop off some prints at the office and do a few things but I was hoping that I could see you later for lunch?” She ran her hands up his chest, her smile bright and wide.

  
“My last class before a break ends at quarter to twelve.” He placed his hands on her hips, holding her smaller frame against his massive one.

  
“Great! I’ll see you then, babe!” She leaned up and gave him as chaste a kiss as he had given her before. She pulled away after thanking him for the coffee, grabbing her camera bag on her way out.

  
After he was left alone, he set his coffee mug down, rolled the left sleeve of his dark blue shirt up, the black ink on his wrist staring up at him.

  
\---

  
The screeching of your alarm had sent your straight out of bed to the floor. You landed with a hard thud, your body screeching in pain and shock as you realized that it wasn't your first alarm to go off.

  
You pushed yourself up to a kneeling position, your hand slamming against your alarm to silence it. Once the blaring screech was done with, you stood and grabbed some clothes from your dresser, unsure if they were actually clean or half clean, but you needed something.

  
You yanked your jeans up your thighs, buttoning them up before slipping a black t-shirt over your head, a hoodie resting on your arm.

  
You shoved your textbooks into your backpack, slung your backpack over your shoulder and left your dorm room. As you started scurrying away from your dorm room to your first class, you took a quick look at the time displayed on your phone, and then moved to your schedule.

  
You shoved your schedule back in your bag as you left your dorm room building, nearly flying to the building your history class was being held in.

  
You ran up the steps, taking two at a time before you slid into your class, our of breath and sweaty, but on time.

  
As you climbed the steps to your seat, your collapsed in the wooden chair, your bag thudding to the floor with a loud bang.

  
You leaned back in your seat, your arms falling to the sides, your chest rising and falling rapidly as you tried to catch your breath.

  
“Alarm clock not go off again?” you sat up slightly, brushing your hair back as you looked over at one part of your trio, Finn.

  
The man was dating your best friend, and his soulmate, Rey, for nearly 2 years. You had met Finn first on the day you moved into your dorm room. He was kind enough to help you move your heavy as sin dresser, and from the moment you met, you connected.

  
“It went off. I just slept through the first three.” You groaned and dug out your history book along with your notebook, setting them down on your desk.

  
“Still deciding to major in history, minor in English?” Finn had dug out his own textbooks as he asked you the question.

  
“Still wanting to major in history and minor in political science?” Finn, like you, had wanted to become a social Studies teacher, to help shape the minds of tomorrow.

  
Or some shit like that.

  
“I like history. And I generally like our history professor. I mean he talks in a boring drawl and he knows his stuff. But…” you dug your schedule out again, glancing over the classes listed on the paper. “do you know who professor B. Solo is?”

  
Finn was white for a moment, his fingers drumming on the desk top, lips pursed. “I think he's new. Or maybe he's not new? I think he may have taken over the English department after old biddy Craw left.”

You snort into your hand, unaccustomed to Finn using words like ‘old biddy’.

  
“Have you heard anything about him? Is he a hard ass? Is he easy going? Is he an asshole?” even though you asked, you didn't get an answer, but Finn had diverted to a different question.

  
“Had any luck finding…” he leaned over to read the name on your wrist. “Benjamin?”

  
You also looked at the name inked on your skin, the black cursive thick and lightly raised. You traced the the lines with your index finger.

  
“Not yet. But I’m only 20. I have time ya know?” you tilt your head, smiling at Finn.

  
“You’ve got time. But I have a feeling, a gut feeling, that you'll find him sooner rather than later.”


	3. Chapter 3

The later half of your history class was spent with you zoned out as your history professor droned on, the even and understated tone of his voice reminding you quite greatly of the teacher from Ferris Bueller's Day Off.

  
It was enough to make an already, typically boring class of History, seem like torture. The way he was droning on about the 7 years war and the effect it had on the America's.

  
As you rest your chin in your hand, your elbow on the desk, you could hear the soft snores of Finn as he slept next to you. You were tempted to join him in sleep, the topic rather boring in comparison to other subjects in your curriculum for this year.

  
Even so, even as you heard Finn's soft snores from your left, and the droning, slow drawl from your Professor at the front of the room, you still hadn't fell into a sleep.

  
Instead, you looked at the name that was inked on your wrist, the black cursive letters spelling out the name Benjamin.

  
You had traced the name at least a dozen times a day, every day. You enjoyed feeling the raised lettering under the pad of your index fingers, being hopeful that your soulmate, whoever and wherever he was, or she, they would be feeling the effects of your index finger tracing the ink.

  
Maybe, in some way, your soulmate would feel the warmth of your finger as you brushed it against his, or her, name.

  
You would hope that your soulmate would do the same to your name, regard it as some token of a true love yet to be. A promise that someone out there was waiting, someone who had been made for them.

  
You had often dreamed of what your soulmate looked like, creating an image of what you imagined he looked like in your kind, even though you knew he likely wouldn’t be how you imagined.

  
A sigh if boredom left your lips as your eyes wandered the dusty old lecture hall your history Professor was talking in, the presentation of facts that was running on his equally old laptop, was spewing facts you had already known about the 7 years war, but he chose to repeat anyway.

  
To your left, sleep was Poe, in front of the lecture hall was your professor, and to your right was a guy who was not so secretively touching his boyfriends growing erection.

  
While your eyes focused too long on his manhandling of his boyfriend, you heard Finn curse under his breath as he finally came to, knocking his knee against the bottom of his desk, making him yelp and jerk.

  
You shook your head and squeezed your eyes shut tightly, hoping that the class would be over, this torment would be over.

  
With your eyes still closed, you inhaled sharply. You were hit with the burning scent of someone using too much cheap axe, practically bathing in it. It was coming from a few rows in front of you, only wafting in your direction because of the rickety old fan, that you could almost bet would fall off and kill someone one day, creating a breeze that blew the offensive, odorous stench into your vicinity.

  
“God.” You muttered with little hope as you started at the clock sitting on the ugly pale yellow walls, the hands hardly moving since the last time you look at them. “will this ever end?”

  
You turned your attention away from the clock on the wall, the malevolency of the metal hands which didn't move forward, sent you spiraling into a foul mood.

  
“I expect,” you sat up hopeful, desperately hopeful that the class would be over. “a paper to be handed in on Monday. No shorter than 1,500 words on the topic of-"

  
You tuned your professor out as you shifted positions in your seat, your fingers drumming against the top of your desk. You knew, realistically, that you should be more focused on History than you were, it was going to be your major, but it was all too incredibly droll.

  
“Class dismissed.” When the professor finally dismissed the lot of you, relief hit you like a tidal wave.

  
You nudged Finn's arm, even though he was awake, making him snap out of whatever daydream he was focused on. As he gathered his books, alongside you, he wiped his hand against his bottom lip, wiping the small dribble of drool that was there.

  
“1500 words on what?” You shrugged at Finn's question. You shoved your books into your bag and yanked your bag over your shoulder.

  
You winced as you felt the weight on your shoulder, almost toppling over if it weren't for Finn's hand on you.

  
“We'll figure it out.” You followed Finn down the steps and toward the exit of the lecture hall.

  
You had stopped just outside the door, a yawn escaping your lips. After you shook your head, another yawn building and threatening to fall like the other, you focused on Finn.

  
“I’ll need a coffee run after my next class. Wanna grab Rey?” at the mention of his girlfriend, Finn’s already warm smile grew more. He shoved his hands into his jean pockets, rocking back and forth on his heels, before nodding eagerly.

  
“Rey will need coffee too. Her engineering class takes as much energy out of her and history takes out of us.” Finn yanked his backup further up his shoulder before slowly walking backwards.

  
“I’ll see you for lunch.” He gave you a smile before he turned on his heel and began walking to his next class.

  
You, like Finn, had slowly shuffled toward your English class. You were neither looking forward to the class, or the prospect of a, possibly, new professor.

  
Still, having a fresh face after ol' buddy Craw, even if you had only heard of her crotchety reputation and never experienced it, could be good.

  
You could have an impassioned professor. Someone who would really make Shakespeare and T.S Elliot and Charles Dickens seem more invigorating.

  
Not that you had a problem with any of their works, but if you had a smoking hot Professor, or at least one who could make their works far more enjoyable than usual.

  
Someone with a sexy English accent, or someone with intense passion. Perhaps even someone with a soul stealing gaze, someone to really bring the works to life.

  
Whoever B. Solo was, your English professor, you just hoped he was good.


	4. Chapter 4

Ben Solo was a man of routine. He had the same routine in the mornings at home, and he had the same routine at the university.

  
He would park in his assigned spot, his black SUV blending in with the other vehicles in the way that it was neither cheap nor top of the line.

  
He would grab his leather briefcase full of any paper assignments he had to grade, he would exit his vehicle, locking it twice to make sure it really did lock, and then move into the building.

  
Once he was inside, he would go to his office, grab any class notes he wrote the night before, and then go to the literature and fine arts department staff room.

  
From there, Ben would converse with the other professors his age, and older, about their lives, class loads, teaching schedules.

  
He would be asked, probably once a quarter, if he and his wife wanted kids. It was at this point where Ben would, somewhat reluctantly, tell his colleagues that his wife didn’t want kids, and he did. It would lead to a slightly awkward silence until Ben would mention that he had come to terms with this.

  
He was a man of routine, he liked his routine. He hadn't expected anything or anyone to throw a wrench in his, nearly, perfectly crafted schedule.

  
But when he felt burning in his wrists, an almost insufferable burning itch where a name was inked on his skin, a sure sign that his soulmate was here, in a close proximity, it was more than his meager routine that was shattered.

  
It was the illusion that he could remain unaffected, unknowing of his soulmate, that had also shattered. It crumbled, fell apart.

  
He had a soulmate, and his soulmate was close.

  
This was enough to send Ben’s thoughts into a complete tailspin. Why did he have to find them now? Why did they have to appear in his life when he was 30 and married for 3 years?

  
“Solo,” his colleague, the theater professor, got his attention. “you look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

  
He ran his hand through his inky black hair, the slight curls nearly getting caught on his wedding ring. He exhaled slowly trying to calm and still his thrashing heart, his shaking hands.

  
He yanked his sleeve further down his wrist to hide the name on his wrist, ignoring the unbearable burning itch. He couldn’t have found his soulmate, it couldn’t be happening. He couldn't find them when he had been married for 3 years.

  
He was in love with his wife. He was in love with the woman he vowed to spend the rest of his life with, despite he not being his soulmate. He took vows.

  
“I should go get prepared for my class.” He forewent the coffee he got himself, grabbing his briefcase before he left the lounge, moving toward his class.

  
He walked in, slammed the door and then slammed his palms against his wooden desk. He hung his head and focused on taking deep breaths, trying to keep himself focused despite the steady feeling of his soul mate’s name burning his skin.

  
He had never felt this before, never felt a single twitch from the inked name. Now, he felt everything, he felt everything he should’ve when he was close to his soulmate.

  
Only he didn’t want to feel it. He didn't want to feel the burning itch, the tugging anxiousness that was building from potentially meeting his soulmate today. He didn't want any of it.

  
He wanted to rip and claw at the name until it was removed from his flesh. He wanted to teach and focus on teaching before going back to his wife, his gorgeous wife of 3 years.

  
This isn't what he wanted. None of it was what he wanted. It isn't what he expected to happen, not by a long shot.

  
Ben lifted the sleeve of his shirt, brown eyes glancing over the black inky name that was always there, but never demanding attention.

  
Until now.

  
Ben yanked his sleeve back down, and clenched his fist. In an act of frustration and seething anger, he raised his fist and slammed it back down on the wood, his knuckles landing square across the top.

  
\---

  
You were taken back by the sensation that spread from the ink on your wrist, throughout your entire body. It hit you like a ton of bricks, heavy and immovable. It was intense and weighty, and a surprise to say the very least.

  
It was a sign that you not only was your soulmate in close proximity, but they were assuredly here. Close.   
The moment you felt the burning itch under your skin was the moment you felt your whole world come to a stop. This was it, this was the moment you had waited for, been waiting for.

  
Now, your task would be finding out just who, and where, Benjamin is and was. You had no indication who he was in the sea of faces, or where he was in the vicinity, but you knew he was around.

  
You weren't exactly sure how to find him, but as you started shuffling toward your English class, the burning grew stronger. You felt it under your skin, felt it under the inked name Benjamin, as it lay on your skin in cursive black.

  
You had stopped just outside the thick wooden door of your English class, glancing in at the rows of seats stacked at the back, the metal stairs leading up to each row separating two halves.

  
The class, or lecture hall, wasn't as dusty as stuffy as the history lecture hall. The walls were the same neutral beige, the same uncomfortable looking seats, but it felt less stodgy.

  
At the front left of the room was a wooden desk, with a stack of papers on top, along with a sleek black laptop. The projection screen was down, a white projector hung from the ceiling, the blue light on, making you believe that there would be a presentation right from the start.

  
You licked your lips and leaned into the classroom, somehow and somewhat trying to psyche yourself to for this class. You didn’t know what struck you so nervous all of a sudden, but it felt like you couldn't move or breathe.

  
“Its just a class.” You inhaled and exhaled slowly. “it’s just a class.”

  
You took a step forward and froze as you felt near unbearable heat shooting up your arm. You looked down at the wrist that had the name Benjamin written across, and then at the stranger who was staring at you with narrowed, dangerously dark brown eyes.

  
“Let me guess,” this beautiful man, you noticed, had your name written across his wrist, even if it was partially covered by his shirt. “you’re Y/N.”

  
“Benjamin…” you felt like your whole world was about to cave in on you.

  
Benjamin was your soulmate. Benjamin was your professor. Benjamin had a wedding band shining brightly on his left hand.

  
Benjamin was your professor, and he was married. Suddenly you weren't so eager to have met your soulmate.


End file.
